


Burning the Candle at Both Ends Hurts my Fingers

by WriterofGotham



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, No Plot/Plotless, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim is a mess, Why Did I Write This?, good batdad, no editing we die like robins, slight sucidal thoughts, this makes my 70th story, tw, what is canon? at this point I don't even care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterofGotham/pseuds/WriterofGotham
Summary: "I'm fine. Last night was a fluke, you're making a bigger deal out of this than it has to be. I can go back to work and no one needs to do my patrols," Tim said in the tone he used yesterday in with the board members. He could handle the work, it was a lot, but he was used to it. Bruce didn't have to overreact like that.





	Burning the Candle at Both Ends Hurts my Fingers

Tim wanted to smash the alarm that was going off on his phone, the unceasing beeping felt like it was boring a hole in his head. It wouldn't have been so bad if had gotten more than two and a half hours of sleep, but what could he do, ask the drug dealers to meet in time for him to go to bed? That wasn't going to happen. Tim gracelessly tumbled out of bed and put coffee on and stepped into the shower. He started to go over what he had to do in his head, the cost-benefit ratio of the proposed new department, a board meeting, the homework he had due from the online college courses, and a fix for a structural weakness a random bad guy had found in the Red Robin suit. The stitches burned under the hot water. He ignored them in favor of getting clean enough to be presentable to the board members.

Not a bad day ahead, a long one perhaps, but he hadn't been a vigilante for years without getting used to it. He was out of the shower in only a few minutes got dressed just as quick and downed a cup of scorching coffee before leaving for work. At times it felt like he was more of a forty year old at a dead end job than a teenager entrusted with a company. Lucky him. As many times as he wished he could be a teenager and have a no job or a part-time job he couldn't let Bruce down like that. He could push himself a little harder sleep less, take less personal time, skip things that didn't matter, and it would be fine. It would who cared if he worked 70 hrs a week at WE? He had to keep it running well and it wasn't fair to Lucius to leave all the work to him. Tim wasn't trusting by nature and he didn't delegate to any board member that had expressed that they wanted to be the CEO. Which was most of them.

Usually, he could smother the feeling of being tired by his third cup of coffee before 10:00 am, but he could help the yawn that escaped as he started to do the math that the cost/benefit analysis. Tam gave him a disapproving look, thankfully she refrained from saying anything. Not that she could say anything that he hadn't heard before. By lunchtime, he had decided to actually eat something instead of working through lunch. The fast-food restaurant inside WE was sufficient, Tim got a cold sandwich and headed back to his office to work on the homework his teachers assigned. He could handle the classes although the teachers assigned homework like they were the only class he was taking. The high math classes weren't easy subjects and the teachers gave out busy work freely.

The board meeting was going to last a long time. Tam had 'accidentally' received an email that outlined all the flaws in Tim's suggested new department. He read over the flaws, they weren't even flaws. It was the board member being picky, he didn't even read the full proposal. He pushed his annoyance down and knew the meeting would be a fight.

He had barely finished the paper on whether vigilantes made the cities problems worse or better when a board member burst in and asked for the monthly number that she could have gotten from literally anyone else. Tim's patience was growing weaker as the woman tried to assert that she should be the CEO in a barely subtle way that made Tim wish that he had called in sick and worked from home. When he was finally done with all of the work he had due, and then an insanely long board meeting that was just one big circular argument, most of the employees had left for the day. With the drive to his apartment, he had time enough to change into his uniform and get to patrol in time. With all of the work, he'd done he forgot to fix the weakness in his suit. It was a simple oversite, really.

If he wasn't so tired he would have had the time to do a few rough stitches, fix the hole, and maybe even design a new suit without the flaw. It seemed the more he chased after sleep the more work he was asked to do, or rogues were up to the usual tricks.

No rest for the weary, or former Robins with no luck. Tim patrolled by himself, as usual, no reason to call it a night. He could imagine how disappointed Bruce would be if he let rapist, drug dealers, and murders go on in his territory. He wouldn't live with himself. He didn't know know when he began this cycle of always working to make Bruce happy.

Except now it's 3:00 am and he hasn't got any real sleep in days and he's just tired. Tired in the way that it isn't fun anymore and it's just settled into him like a second skin. He wants to just curl up and fall asleep somewhere warm and safe. The manor used to be so... safe and warm to go to sleep in. His favorite memories of being Robin are when he'd wake up in the manor and Alfred and Bruce would be there and he wouldn't be alone. Tim knows he was kind of pathetic for a kid that was Robin.

Was Robin. That didn't last as long as he hoped. He really needs to head back to his apartment before stupid memories completely take over and make him utterly useless for the night. It's probably the lack of sleep, the too many cups of coffee just aren't cutting it anymore, Tim realized belatedly when he just sort of falls from the line.

But really he's too tired to care anymore. He wanted to go down anyway, right? So it's a surprise when the cold, hard concrete isn't the thing that catches him, rather warm and armored arms. He's too tired to care. He melts into the arms and just lets go...

*****************************************

Tim knows exactly where he is when he wakes up, he keeps his eyes closed and pretends a little longer that everything is ok and that he's just staying the night after a long patrol. The soft bed that doesn't fit him anymore is still welcoming, but it's not really his, just like the room isn't really his anymore. Red Robin isn't really part of the family anymore.

He sits up slowly, his side still burns with the movement and for a moment he wonders who saved him. Dick would have been beside the bed. Jason might have dropped him off at the manor. Bruce would have had Damian with him and the brat would have probably convinced Bruce to let him fall. Some detective he was, he didn't even see who saved because he was too tired. Too freaking tired.

Tim got up slowly and looked at his watch, the numbers glowed back 2:04 pm. He sighed, he had too much work to do. Alfred would insist on making him lunch or supper. If Tim was being honest with himself, it would be nice to eat a meal that wasn't bought or microwaved so he threw on a shirt that had a logo from some cartoon from the 90's and walked down to find Bruce and Alfred both in the kitchen waiting for him.

"I canceled your appointments, Dick and Cass are covering your territory. You need a break," Bruce told him as soon as he sat on the bar stools.

"I'm fine. Last night was a fluke, you're making a bigger deal out of this than it has to be. I can go back to work and no one needs to do my patrols," Tim said in the tone he used yesterday in with the board members. He could handle the work, it was a lot, but he was used to it. Bruce didn't have to overreact like that.

"Tim, you fell in mid-grapple that isn't a fluke. You need a break, let me be your father and take care of you. You need to take care of yourself, Alfred had to re-stitch where you were stabbed and you look like you've lost too much weight. Your suit has a structural weakness that there's no way you didn't know about. I know you are an adult and you can take care of yourself, but please try to be more careful I can't lose you. I'm going to believe it was exhaustion and not on purpose that you fell. You need a break, real one so you can take a trip, stay at the manor with Damian spending the week with Dick, or something else," Bruce finished his speech.

"I'll visit some of the old Titans. Is that good enough?" Tim asked surprised at the length and content of Bruce's speech.

"No work whatsoever. I made your favorite foods so you're going to eat and then sleep. Tomorrow just spend time with the Titans and have fun," Alfred stated.

"Thanks, Alf," Tim told him as he yawned. A break wouldn't be so bad if he was being honest. It had been months since he'd seen the Titans and he missed them. The easy comrade and the understanding and friendship they had would be refreshing from always working and patrolling. Bruce was right, he could handle his own company for once and Tim could be a teenager for a week.

He would still come home and fix his suit, pick up the fight with the board members and fall back in the habits he had of getting not enough sleep and too much caffeine, but this week he was going to enjoy being eighteen with his best friends.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a story where Bruce was a good Dad and noticed the neon signs that Tim needs a break instead of being oblivious. Also, what is canon? I don't even care at this point. Happy early Halloween lovelies!


End file.
